Faith
by The Guest Girl
Summary: She is shy, preferring to stick to the corners of a room than be anywhere that there is the most remote chance of her being seen. Even though its hard for that to happen, seeing how she has been invisible to any one but other immortals for the past 150 years. This is my first fanfic. Ever. So please, come on in and tell me how I did. Rated T because I am new and cautious.
1. Chapter 1

Fae's (first person) POV

Falling. Falling. That is the first thing I am aware of. Falling.

Then I hear a roar. Like a thousand trains out of control, barreling towards me. And then I feel the water. So much water. It's everywhere.

Falling. Roaring noise. Water everywhere.

I am scared.

I fall for what seems like an eternity. I can't breathe. I can't move. Then I stop falling as I hit something solid. Something hard, and sharp.

Then, then the pain hits. A horrible pain shoots up my back like lightning. It spreads through my body. It's like I'm being split in half. The water, the roar, is everywhere. It is pressing down on me. I can't breathe. I can't move. It's too much. I'm not going to make it. I'm going to die.

And yet strangely, I'm okay with that. I have the sense that I just did something good. Something worth dying for.

These are my thoughts as the pain spreads. These are my thoughts as I fade into darkness.

_I have done something worth dying for, so it is okay to die._ _Though I would love to know what I did that was so good._

Then everything is black. Everything is dark. I'm scared again.

And then there is a light. A huge white circle in the sky. It makes the darkness go away.

_Wait, I'm dead. How can I see that circle- what is it called, oh yeah, the _Moon_- in the sky? For that matter, how can I see the sky?_

I'm rising. No, I'm floating, I realize. I'm still under the water. But the water doesn't matter any more. The Moon, the Moon will protect me.

I keep rising. I gasp as my body breaks the surface of the water. And still I rise, my body cushioned by the Moon's rays. Then I hear a voice.

_**Your name is True Faith. You will help this world when all think that the world is empty of faith, for remember, good or bad, there is always Faith. **_

I am floated over to the bank, and gently set down on my feet. I wobble a bit, like a baby deer trying to stand up for the first time. When I find my balance, I straighten, and look at the Moon. "It was you speaking to me, wasn't it?" I say, finding my voice for the first time. The Moon seems to glow brighter for a second, as if in confirmation. _I probably imagined it, _I think.

I sigh, and look around, taking in my surroundings. The water that I came out of is a river. Barely a ripple disturbs its motionless surface. I walk over to the edge and look into the water.

I stare at the young girl that looks up at me from the depths. She looks to be around 12, maybe 13, years old. "Hello," I say as I wave, wanting to appear friendly. The girl does the same thing at the exact same moment as I do. I giggle, and so does she. I gasp as another realization hits me. _Wait, that's _me_! That's my reflection!_ I laugh at my silliness before studying myself in the river.

I am pretty, if not very remarkable. I suspect that I am a few inches below average height and a little underweight. I have very light brown hair with dark blond highlights that falls to just above my shoulder blades in loose wavy ringlets. I have a round nose that looks a little too big for my face and slightly chubby cheeks. My skin is a light tan color from many days outside. My most striking feature is my eyes. They are a beautiful gray-blue color that seems to have little flecks of green in it, and have long dark lashes.

I look down from my face to see what I am wearing. I have on a light gray-blue cloak that goes to my waist and matches my eyes. It has a hood. I pull the cloak aside to see a long sleeved light brown button-up shirt that covers up my small chest. I also wear a long crème colored skirt with a brown cloth belt to hold it up. Under the skirt I have on a pair of light brown leggings. My feet are covered by sensible dark brown shoes with matching brown stockings.

My eyes drift from the river and my reflection to its banks. On the side that I stand on there is a beautiful forest. I realize that it is autumn, for the leaves on the trees are a burst of reds, oranges, yellows, and light greens. The colors are far more muted in the Moon's soft light then they would be in the sun, but they are still a pretty sight for my darkness-weary eyes.

I look to the other side of the river, and almost gasp in shock. The right bank is as different from the left as the sun is from the Moon. Gray cliffs rise up into the sky, at least fifty meters high. As my eyes travel up the gray behemoths in wonder, something catches my attention. About thirty feet above the river, there is a cave.

_I wish I could go up there,_ I think longingly, as my curiosity spikes. And suddenly I'm in the air, at least twenty feet above where I was standing. I let out a joyous laugh, and look back around at the cave. _I want to go to that cave! _I think. Suddenly I'm flying towards the cave at high speeds. My eyes widen, _to fast! _I realize. _Slow down!_ I slow my assent and land on a small ledge out side of the cave. I stumble into the cave laughing again. _This is the most fun I've ever had, I'm sure of it! _Then I frown, the laugh I had been about to release dying in my throat. "Am I sure of it?" I whisper to my self. "I can't remember."

My shoulders droop as reality hits me. I sit down heavily on a rock and stare into space. _I-I don't know. I can't remember!_ I let out a sob.

"Oh, no you don't. You _do _know! The Moon just told you! You are True Faith, and you're going to help the world!" I say to my self fiercely. Then I sigh. "The only thing you don't know is how, or when."

I think for a moment. "Hmmm, True Faith. That's a bit long. I think that I'll go by my last name, Faith." Then I stand up to have a look around the cave I had flown up to see.

As I stand up, something bumps my leg. I look down to see a long crème colored stick hooked through a loop in my belt. I take it off to have a better look at it. It is heavy, a lot heavier than I expected by looking at it. It's about a foot long, maybe a little longer and shaped like a cylinder. At one end it is a small bit thicker than at the other end. Perhaps about 2 ½ inches wide at the thick end. The smaller end is about 2 inches wide, and has a hook that attaches to my belt. A light brown leather grip also covers the thin end until about 5 inches the stick.

As I study it, I wonder what it is called. I shrug, and grab the leather grip, holding it out in front of me. Suddenly I feel a jolt of pure power run through me as a name for the stick pops into my head. _A baton._ I shriek in surprise and drop the newly named baton, shooting straight up into the air so fast that I hit my head on the ceiling of the cave. I drop down and land hard on the rock I had been sitting on a few moments before. As I rub my head, I stare at the baton on the floor. Hesitantly, I reach out and pick it up by the grip again. Another bolt of power runs through me, but not as violently as the first. I gasp before laughing in pure joy. The flow of power soon fades into a comfortable buzz in the back of my head. The weapon just feels _right_ in my hand, balanced.

I look around at the cave I am standing in. It is much deeper than I had thought, going on for a few meters before it became to dark for me to see. I walk forward a few feet before stopping as the light from the Moon outside faded. I shiver, remembering the darkness that I had awoken from.

_I wish I had some light,_ I think. As soon as I have thought this, the baton I still clutch in my hand starts to glow. As the light grows brighter, I begin to walk forward.

Then I stop, my mouth agape. The tunnel has opened up into a huge underground cavern. The ceiling has to be at least twenty meters above me. The walls of the cavern are made of layers of differently colored rocks, like the layers of cakes. Then, amazingly, almost as if in response to my glowing baton, some of the stones in the cavern also begin to glow. It lights up the cavern even brighter.

_Wow, this place is amazing, _I think. I yawn, suddenly realizing how tired I am. I fly up to a large nearby shelf of reddish rock. I clip my baton back to my belt, feeling for some reason that I should _never_ take it off. The cave is strangely warm, so I take off my cloak. I then fold it up to use as a pillow.

I am almost asleep when I think of something that makes me sit bolt upright. _I still don't know where I am._ I tiredly slump my shoulders. _It's too late at night. _I think as I lie back down. _I'll figure it out, first thing tomorrow._ That is my last thought as I slump into the sweet land of dreams.

Darkness. There is Darkness everywhere. It's pressing down on me. I can't breathe. I can't move.

No, it's not the darkness that keeps me from breathing. It's the water. It's every where. I'm falling again. _No! Not this! Anything but this again!_ Panicked thoughts run through my mind.

Some where in the back of my mind there is a little voice saying that this has already happened, that I am safe, asleep in the cavern. And this is all just a nightmare.

But I can't hear that voice. It is too quiet. It's overrun by thoughts of panic.

I keep falling,

And falling,

And falling.

The water and darkness are closing in.

I feel my heart racing, blood pounding through my ears.

I let out one terrified sob,

"Please, no, No,

NO!"

I bolt awake, clutching my baton so tightly that my knuckles are dead white. My head whips around, eyes wide with fear, taking in my surroundings. I am in the cave. It was a nightmare. I had been asleep.

Just like that voice at the back of my head told me. I should really listen to her more often.

I sigh, and swing my legs over the side of the rock shelf. I sit there and think. Why is my first memory of something so terrifying? Surely there must have been something before that. Surely _I _had been someone before that fall.

I concentrate, trying to remember. There is _something_, right there at the back of my mind, farther back then even the little voice. It's like there is a thick layer of dust and dirt over it. I can almost reach it. I'm so close to being able to grab it, to brush off the dust. To see who I am, who I was.

I'm _so_ unbearably close, it's like my minds fingers are brushing the little object. Then I hear a yell outside. My concentration shatters like glass.

I gasp for air, unaware that I had been holding my breath. I'm sweating, and shaking. I look around for what ever had broken my concentration at so crucial a moment. There is nothing.

Just as I'm about to go back to reaching for the box, (that is what I have decided the object looks like) I start at something else. I am sure I heard some thing this time. I grab my cloak and sling it on, then fly out the cave mouth.

_I am definitely getting better at flying_. I think. And it is true. I have much more control over my motion than I did yesterday. I smile at the memory of my first, short little flight.

I come out of the cave and nearly fall out of the sky (again) at the scene before me. Instead, I zip back to the entrance to the cave and hide behind a large rock sticking out of the floor.

After a few moments, I peek around the side of the rock at the people I see. They are gathered around on the opposite bank of the river, and look like they are talking. I slowly venture out from behind the rock. Keeping low to the floor of the cave, I creep to the edge of the cliff outside of the mouth. I can see them, but I can't hear them. They seem to be waiting for some thing, or maybe someone. I desperately want to know what they are talking about.

Luckily, the sun is rising behind the cliffs, so most of the river and the cliff face are in shadow. I slowly make my way down the cliff and into the woods. As I gaze at the men, silent for the moment, something catches my eye. I look at it. I gasp in awe. "It" is a beautiful yellow and orange leaf. I look around me at the rest of the trees and sigh in wonder. I had been right last night when I had suspected that the foliage would look even better in sunlight than in moonlight.

One of the men sighs sadly, drawing my attention back to the group. For the first time, I really look at them, studying them. There are about fifteen of them, maybe more. Some are dressed in warm cloaks like mine, with neat breeches, stockings, and shoes.

Others are not dressed so nicely. Shoddy patching jobs, torn cloaks and jackets, worn out shirts and stockings. One of them, a boy who couldn't be more than 16, had no shoes or stockings at all.

All of them shiver in the chilly morning air. Faces forlorn, they stare at their feet, barely saying a word to each other. One young man in particular catches my eye.

He stands apart from the group, staring at the river only a few feet below him. He looks to be around 18, maybe 19 years old. He has light brown hair, light enough to be mistaken as blond. His outfit is some of them better cared for clothing, with a warm brown jacket, blue pants, and short stockings with brown shoes. This is all I can see of him, as his back is turned toward me. But I want to see more. I feel a connection with the boy, as if I know him. I know that if I could only see his face, I would remember something.

The other people in the group keep glancing at him, their faces full of pity. I wonder, for what seems to be the thirtieth time, who these men are. And why are they here? And why do they seem so sad?

Suddenly, I hear a shout from the woods, away from the group. It comes from the right, the side opposite the sad boy. All of the men look up, and suddenly hope flashes across their faces. The boy looks up with such hope in his eyes; I can't help but be hopeful too, even if I don't know what I'm hoping for.

I look to the woods from which the shout had come, and wait for whatever it is to emerge.

Another group of men, about 10 of them, come out of the woods. They look weary, and downcast. The boy runs over to the man leading the small group. He is tall, with light brown hair the same shade as the boy's. He too is familiar. The boy looks up at him, and I can feel the hope radiating from him.

Tears well up in the man's eyes, and he gives a slight shake of the head. It was as if that shake held all the answers in the world.

The whole group seemed to deflate, as if defeated.

The boy's shoulders slump as he stares at the ground. The man puts a hand on the boy's shoulder. As if the touch was an invitation, the boy collapses into the man with a sob. Their shoulders shake in unison as they cry.

I sigh quietly. They had not found what they were looking for, whatever it is.

**A/N: Hi! This is my first fan fiction. Ever. So I don't really know what I'm doing. There will be no OC slash anyone. Yet. There might, however, be some slash involving the original RotG characters. Any reviews and/or **_**constructive**_** criticism is welcome. Flames will be used as Manny intended. To roast Trolls, cook naysayers, and make Smores. Because Smores are delicious. R&R please!**

**Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I feel like it's been MONTHS since I posted my first chapter. But it's probably only been about a week or so. DO NOT expect any sort of schedule of regular updates from me. Because there will be none. **

**Stupid life, always preventing me from writing. And reading other people's fanfics.**

Fae's POV

After a few minutes, the crying dies down, before stopping completely. The tall man sighs, and looks up at those surrounding him and the boy.

"We should go. Sh-," his voice cracks as he speaks. "She obviously isn't here." I give a slight start, realizing that this is the first time I have heard any of them speak. Again I feel that strange spark of familiarity.

_She? _I wonder._ Is some girl lost or something?_

With a groan, the man stands up. The others file past him, onto a trail in the woods that I had not noticed. One man stops beside the two.

"I'm so sorry, Thomas. She was such a nice girl," he says. Thomas. It fits the tall man somehow.

The man walks past Thomas and the boy, before disappearing down the trail after the others.

"Come on. We have to go home. Your Ma will be worried sick." Thomas grabs the boy by the arm and gently lifts him to his feet. As soon as he is steady, the boy shakes Thomas's hand of his arm with a glare.

"As well she should be! My little sister is out there all alone, probably freezing to death after being in the river the whole night. And you want to go home? Empty handed, to Ma, and Elizabeth and baby Carla and poor little Tommy? He was _there_ when it happened, Da! He thinks it's his entire fault. He thinks that Kate is _dead_, and you want to go home to them without even a shoe to show them?" There is pain in his voice, pain he is trying to mask with anger.

His rant leaves me reeling with new information. Thomas is the boy's father. I had guessed that they were related, as they look so alike. But the other things he said are new to me. The girl who is lost is his sister. Her name is Kate. She was in the river when she got lost. A little boy named Tommy was there when she got lost. He, their Ma, and some girl named Elizabeth where at home waiting for news.

"We have to, William. We've been searching since night fall yesterday with no luck. We need food, and you need to rest. Just because we are going home does not mean that we are giving up."

With a sigh, the boy, William, hangs his head in defeat. "I just can not bare the thought that I have failed her. I should have been there. I should have protected her."

"We have done all we can, son. Come, we best go." Without another word, they turn, and begin down the trail.

William POV

Finally, we arrive home. Despite the weariness and sorrow clawing at me, I can not help but smile at our little cottage.

The thick shingled roof and sturdy brick walls keep us warm of the worse of nights. Even the second story of our home is kept warm. Our family has been in this house for only four generations. Each one has added more than the last. It started out as a thatched roof, log cabin until my father and grandfather built up around it with bricks and mortar, adding another story and a new roof of shingles. We are one of the few families in the village that has such a nice house.

New White Cliff. It's such a small, new town. Named for the cliffs that rise above the river to the east of town. This village was one of the first villages to be founded in the Washington territory. Even so, most families have only been here one or two generations. The oldest have only been here for about five generations.

My father and I trudge up to the front of the house. The door is flung open from inside and a little brown topped blur barrels into my stomach.

"Willy!" My baby brother shrieks as he hugs me as hard as he can. That isn't saying much. I hug him back gently and force a smile on my face as I hold him away from me.

"Hey there Little Buck, what are you doing up so early? You need your sleep if you're going to grow up nice and strong." He giggles when I finish speaking.

"I barely slept at all! So I can't 'get up' early if I haven't slept! I was up almost all night with Momma and Lizzy." He looks around and then stands on tip toe, motioning for me to come closer. I oblige, and lean towards him. "Don't tell them. I actually didn't even go to sleep when they forced me to go into my room. I snuck out and sat on the stair."

I feel myself flush as I look at him more closely. He is even paler than usual and his mop of dark hair provides a sharp contrast to his skin. His cheeks are hollow looking and there are dark circles around his eyes.

But the eyes themselves are as bright as ever. They are eyes that can see right through you, eyes that can tell if you are sad or happy or worried. Eyes that see a world full of light, never darkness. It is as if I can almost see the whole world in them. And I do. My world. My families' world. There is only one other person with eyes like that, a person I may never see again. If this pair ever go dull, as they almost did once before, our world will be lost.

"Tommy! Come inside, quickly! You'll catch a cold!" My mother's worry lined face appears in the open door as she calls. Then she spots me and father and walks outside herself. She and Da embrace, and when they pull apart I see Ma's eyes searching around us, hoping. Finally her gaze returns to father, full of tears. He pulls her back into another hug. I sigh and turn to Tommy.

"Come on, let's go inside." His face falls into an adorable pout, and I laugh. "Then you can tell me all about staying up late." The smile returns to his sunken cheeks.

"Okay!"

He races into the house as fast as his thin legs can carry him. Every thing seems out of proportion. His arms and legs and neck are far too thin for his body. And his body isn't that big either. As he runs, everything goes every which way. The sight is almost enough to make me forget my troubles. Almost.

I turn to Da, who still has an arm firmly around Ma. I can see that she has been crying, crying since before we came home. Her eyes fill with tears once again as she watches him run up the steps.

"Oh, Ma." I walk over to her and clasp her hands in mine. "Don't cry. Things will get better. I know they will." But I don't know. None of us do.

**A/N part 2: Soooo, yeah. That's chapter two. I hope y'all like it. Also, can someone tell me if there actually is a town called New White Cliff? Or if someone has already used that name, please don't report me! I don't think anyone has.**

**So, how do you think Fae is related to this little family? (Its probably pretty obvious.) **

**And thank you, River the Witch Girl, for being my first reviewer EVER. And for the cookies. They were yummy. Here, have some thank you brownies!**

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**Disclaimer: I own nothing! Except for Fae, William, Thomas, Ma, Tommy, and Elizabeth. And New White Cliff (if it doesn't belong to someone already) If you steal them you will be BURNED. BURNED I SAY.**

**R&R, if you please.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hello again! I'm finally ba—**

**AAAAACK *Dodges various sharp objects, tommatos, pies, an apple or two, and a—* AAAAAAH *—a FILING CABINET? Really? A filing cabinet? REALLY? Where do you people-reading-my-story-and-demanding-more-chapters-that-I-made-up-in-my-mind GET these things?* **

**Anyway, I'm sooo sorry that I haven't updated for so long. My muse broke. I had to get it fixed and it took forever. Gosh-darn thing has always been faulty… And I am sorry if I switch between past and present tense. I'm not very good at being consistent with that, I'm afraid. **

**Anyway, here's the third chapter, Enjoy.**

**Fae's POV**

_Little Leaf falling down,_

_Far away is the cold hard ground. _

_You have time to drift and dream,_

_Before you hit the cold stream._

_Little Leaf falling down,_

_I wait here upon the ground._

_I will catch you, have faith in me,_

_For you are my Little Leaf._

_Little Buck wild and free,_

_I see you've fallen down and broke your knee._

_Alone and scared in the great wild woods_

_You aren't sure you would move if you could._

_Do not despair, do not lose faith._

_You are not alone, you will be safe._

The song ended. Every night, I had listened to the mother sing to the boy. The song tugged at me. I knew that I had heard it before, somewhere. Every day since I had first, as I liked to call it, "woken up," I had come to observe the family. I would sit and watch them live their lives.

I watched as the Mother and Elizabeth went about their daily chores; washing clothes, mending clothes, making clothes, washing dishes, tending to the baby, cooking, cleaning, and other various chores that I immediately deemed _boring_. I would also watch as the father went to work in a small smithy in the town (which I had found out was called New White Cliff, for the white-ish gray cliffs that my cave is in). He would make and replace horse shoes on horses; he would make nails, and hooks for clothes, and many other things. It was far more interesting than the chores that the women did, but still pretty boring.

What interested me the most was watching William and the youngest boy, Tommy. Although William did have a job of chopping wood for some neighboring families, most afternoons he spent watching over Tommy. William would collect sticks for firewood as Tommy collected smaller twigs for tinder. They would sometimes walk to the edge of a small stream to collect water, or even just look for pebbles.

One time, the two boys decided to pull a trick on their mother and Elizabeth. They went to the stream, and found _worms_ to put on the back steps of the house for the girls to find when they went to hang the wash. I was hiding up in the trees near the stream to watch when Tommy told William his plan. I found it so funny that I actually giggled. I immediately flew to the other side of the tree; sure that one of them would look up and see me. When I looked back, they hadn't even flinched. They where searching the banks for worms, as if nothing had happened. I puzzled over this for a minute, as I had laughed quite loudly. They should have been able to hear me. After a few minutes, I shrugged it off and went back to watching. The rest of the day went on as usual, except for the prank, which worked out brilliantly. It was really funny.

What really interested me, what kept me watching the whole family, not just the two brothers, was the talk. It helped me figure out things about the family, and about their life. After nearly 3½ months of following the family around, I had figured out this:

The Basics: The Father's name was Thomas, and the Mother's name was Mary. They had two sons, William, the oldest of the five children, and Thomas Jr, the second youngest, commonly known as Tommy. They also had three daughters; Elizabeth, the second oldest, a little baby named Carla, and the girl named Kate that was missing.

The Little-Bit-More-Than-Basics: Kate had fallen over a waterfall not far upriver from my cave (I still didn't know what exactly had happened to make her fall) about a day before I had woken up. I knew that William and Tommy were very close to Kate, and that William blamed himself for her disappearance.

The A-Lot-More-Than-Basics: I had also figured out that Tommy was sick. He had been born very early, but by some miracle, he had survived. But he was still weak, and the family often worried for him. He caught sicknesses easily. No matter what they fed him, he seemed to never gain weight. No matter how much he rested, he always seemed to be a little tired.

Sometimes he would have these little "fits,"* as his family called them. They would happen when he was overly excited, or even when he exercised too much. During these, he would suddenly become very tired, and would even fall over. He would have trouble breathing, and would cough a lot. Usually, after resting a few minutes, and having some water, he would feel better. But other times… other times the fits were more serious. He would have to be in bed for days, sometimes only waking up from fitful slumber long enough to drink some water, which he almost always just threw up.

I have only seen one the more serious type of Tommy's fits. It happened only a little while ago, and he is still in bed from it. The doctor says that he will be in bed for the rest of the month. I am worried, I am scared for him.

I had somehow grown attached to the young boy. I had never spoken to him—never that I could remember, anyway—yet I felt connected. It was like I had known him his whole life. When I had first seen his small, frail form, that chilly night when I woke up, something inside my clicked. I looked at his beautiful eyes from afar, so full of hope, joy and wonder. Eyes full of dreams, fun, and sweet memories. Full of trust and love for his elder brother. I saw those eyes, even from so far away, hiding behind a tree to watch, I saw them, and I knew that I _never_ wanted to see that be lost. I knew that I did not want to see those feelings- the hope, the dreams, the memories, the wonder, the fun, or the complete trust for his brother- go away. I did not want to see those eyes fade and dull from pain, fear, and despair.

So I've sat on the window-sill outside of his room and watched over him. I did not watch Ma and Elizabeth doing chores. I did not watch Pa in the smithy. I did not even watch William collect firewood or pebbles. All of my attention is on little Tommy. I watch over him all day, then, at night, when Ma has sung her song and blown out the candle, I fly home. Then I'm back at dawn to watch again. I never stayed longer than the flame on the candle. When it went out, I went home. Until today.

Tonight I have decided to stay after the candle. Tommy was worse than ever today, so I'm going to watch over him all tonight. The doctor had said yesterday that he was well enough to give some thin soup.

But today, he threw everything that the family gave to him right back up. Thomas and William stayed home from their jobs. Elizabeth did all of the chores —with a little help from William —as Ma cared for Tommy. She hovered over him as coughs racked his frail form. He has gotten better as the day went by, but only by a little.

It is getting dark out. Ma is lighting the candle. In a little while, she will sing her song and blow out the candle. And tonight I will stay longer than the flame.

**A/N: Any ideas for who she might meet tonight?! HINT. HINT. Any ways, I'm going to start working on the next chapter as soon as post this one. I'm sorry that it's so short. **

*** Think Tiny Tim Crachit, from a **_**Christmas Carol.**_


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